not for me. I figure I’m safe.”
“I’m not sure anybody’s safe,” Judith said. “It doesn’t pay
to get careless.”
Max took a big drink from the martini glass. “It doesn’t
seem to matter, does it? Whoever our killer is somehow
manages to get the job done.” He waved a big paw at the
collection of bottles. “You want something? You’re Scotchrocks, right?”
“Yes.” Judith smiled, surprised that Max would have noticed. But of course he was a marketing man; such types were
paid to acquaint themselves with the habits of potential
customers and thus to win their hearts, minds, and new accounts.
“Here,” he said, deftly pouring the whiskey over a halfdozen cubes. “How come you aren’t cowering in a corner?”
“I don’t work for OTIOSE,” Judith replied. “Besides, my
cousin and I have our insurance policy.”
Max downed the rest of the double, then began mixing
another. “We’ve all seen the garrote, the empty pill bottle,
and the pillowcase. They don’t add up to much, if you ask
me.” He loomed over Judith, his hazel eyes glinting dangerously. “What else have you got? It must be something you
saw or heard.”
Judith backpedaled a couple of steps. “We’ve seen and
heard quite a bit,” she said in a small voice. Then, because
Max’s size and stance were so intimidating, she blurted out
one of her more outrageous fibs. “We saw someone in the
corridor about the time of the murder. It must have been the
killer.”
Max Agasias recoiled, spilling some of his drink. “Who
did you see?” he demanded.
Judith clamped her lips shut. Max used his free hand to
grip her shoulder. “Who? Tell me, dammit! Who was it?”
There was no right answer, yet Judith had to say something. Judging from Max’s frantic attitude, she realized what
he expected—or was afraid—to hear.
“You,” she gulped. “But someone else, too.”
“Besides me?” Max let go of Judith. “Who?” he asked
again, now more bewildered than agitated.
She shook her head in a helpless manner. “I’m not sure.
It was shadowy in the corridor. The lights had dimmed, ever
so briefly.” The fib was growing, taking on a life of its own,
mutating into a colossal lie. “It could have been…anyone.”
Somewhat glassy-eyed, Max was staring off into space.
“You’re right. It could. Except maybe…” He stopped, suddenly asserting a modicum of self-control.
Judith relaxed a bit. “What were you doing in the corridor?” It took nerve to inquire, but the Scotch gave her false
courage.
Max’s broad shoulders slumped. “I was looking for
something in Andrea’s room. It belonged to me.”
Judith made a quick mental inventory of the items that she
and Renie had returned. “Did you find it?”
